


Superhero Boyfriend

by tuesday



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Mistaken for Being in a Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-06 17:01:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18855274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesday/pseuds/tuesday
Summary: So one of the terrible things about half the world's population suddenly being alive again—besides the many and overwhelming logistical problems caused by said re-aliving—was that gossip sites were a thing again.  Helping to save the world (helping to savethe universe) only took one so far before suddenly one's failing marriage was picked apart, the subsequent divorce was devoured, and any hint of a love life thereafter was gnawed down to the bones by opportunistic vultures masquerading as would-be journalists.  Even when said hints were made up whole cloth from the imaginations of the people writing the stories.





	Superhero Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wednesday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesday/gifts).



> This is a treat for hurt/comfort exchange! It's canon divergent from partway through Endgame in a way that becomes readily apparent even in the summary. It contains references to some events in both EG and IW.
> 
> Redating for reveals. This was originally posted 5/17, though the collection didn't open until 5/20. Sorry if you managed to see it twice!

So one of the terrible things about half the world's population suddenly being alive again—besides the many and overwhelming logistical problems caused by said re-aliving—was that gossip sites were a thing again. Helping to save the world (helping to save _the universe_ ) only took one so far before suddenly one's failing marriage was picked apart, the subsequent divorce was devoured, and any hint of a love life thereafter was gnawed down to the bones by opportunistic vultures masquerading as would-be journalists. Even when said hints were made up whole cloth from the imaginations of the people writing the stories.

Look, maybe Tony had noticed how Peter had filled out over the years since Tony had first plucked him up from an apartment in Queens and brought him along on a misadventure in Germany. Maybe Tony was a little more touchy with Peter than anyone should be with someone who was still a teenager and barely an adult, because Tony needed the concrete proof of Peter's body, solid and firm and real under his hands, to remind himself that yes, Peter was one of those people re-alived. Maybe Tony had developed something of an inappropriate attraction to that very solid, very firm body, which he'd realized about the same moment he'd also realized dragging his palms down Peter's chest was going to play out differently on camera than the semi-innocent shirt smoothing he'd been going for—which was to say, entirely too late to stop himself.

There was a gif of it—along with several others, equally damning—punctuating articles speculating on the hot young twink Tony had been dragging to and feeling up at parties and public events. It was supposed to be good practice for Peter, a soft intro to the spectacle that accompanied the life of a superhero. Instead, he was thrust straight into the limelight for something he hadn't even done.

But the point was: it wasn't like that.

No matter how much it really, really looked like it was like that. Tony didn't remember having his hand that low on Peter's back when he'd been leading Peter up the stairs. Or that high when he was resting his hand on Peter's thigh as they'd sat on that bench outside. Surely that had been closer to the knee? And okay, yeah, there had been some stroking, but Tony had naturally restless hands. It wasn't—it couldn't be—anything like that.

Tony looked at the photo where he wasn't even touching Peter, just gazing soulfully into Peter's big brown eyes, a soft smile playing about his lips, and had yet another terrible realization.

Yes, actually. It was like that.

Shit.

—

This was about the point where, thirty years ago, long before Peter was ever born, Tony would have crawled into a bottle as a distraction and come back out to find he'd slept with three supermodels and bought a sports team or invented something impressively explosive. As he was a grown, middle-aged man with responsibilities and owning the Seahawks had been pretty boring, Tony instead focused on the inventing something impressive part, even if it wasn't going to explode.

"Yeah, the advanced growth hydroponics are impressive, Tony," Rhodey said with all the patience of someone who'd known him those thirty years and more, "but you were supposed to come to the team meeting today. In person."

"FRIDAY conference called, didn't she? I programmed her to act as my voice." Tony held up a hand, and Rhodey put the tool he needed in it, like they were teenagers in the lab at MIT, clicking back into sync. "So it was like I was there without my having to actually be there."

"So you're fine with being volunteered for the goodwill circuit for the rest of the year? No protests? Glad to hear it."

"Wait—" Tony started to protest, but Rhodey steamrolled him.

"I was concerned it would be a little much, but FRIDAY said there were no conflicts. I'll mark you down as a definite for every one of them."

"You don't think that's a little petty?" Tony asked.

"Nothing little about it," Rhodey said. Before Tony could decide what innuendo he wanted to respond with—so many choices, one opportunity—Rhodey continued, "And in case you were thinking about just not showing up, you should know that Peter volunteered, too."

"They'll eat him alive," Tony said.

"Good thing he's not going alone," Rhodey said.

"I didn't agree to this," Tony said.

"Show up to the next meeting in person."

—

Tony showed up to the next meeting in person. It didn't get him out of the rest of it.

—

There were now articles speculating that Tony was cheating on Peter with Spider-Man. Apparently being aware of his problems with too much touching and tendency to stare at Peter with a combination of tenderness and bedroom eyes was not enough to quell them. It was probably worse, because every time his hands landed on Peter's body without Tony's actual intent to put them there, Tony froze for a moment, which meant they stayed there longer.

It definitely didn't help that Tony was still taking Peter out for everything not Avengers related and could not keep his goddamn hands to himself. Peter didn't seem to mind; he barely seemed to notice. Had Tony always been this handsy? In the end, Tony decided to lean into it.

When they went to a fundraising gala, Tony dragged Peter out onto the dance floor, because it wasn't like everyone there didn't already think they were fucking. It wasn't like he could make it worse.

"Is this okay?" Peter asked as Tony led him in a simple box step and tried not to think about how nice Peter smelled up close.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Tony asked breezily. Peter's hands burned at Tony's shoulder and his hip.

"It's just," oh, that smile did not bode well, "I heard you have a superhero boyfriend now. Someone saw him bench press a truck once."

"I don't think he's the jealous type," Tony said. He had one hand at Peter's waist and the other resting on the back of his neck.

"He might surprise you." Peter looked entirely too amused.

"If he wanted to, he'd need to put in a claim first. Right now, I am free to dance with all the beautiful young men I want." Tony needed some distance. He pushed Peter out and gave him a little spin. Then, because Tony was an idiot, he immediately drew Peter back in, closer this time. "You're getting better at this."

"Beautiful young men?" Peter asked, and that wasn't jealousy in his voice. It sounded like someone who hadn't considered himself a part of that category and was delighted to find it included him after all.

"Don't let it go to your head," Tony said.

—

Peter let it go to his head, inviting himself back to Tony's, then up.

He kissed Tony in the car and then again in the elevator. He kissed Tony in the foyer, in the hall, in the bedroom. He kissed Tony over and over again in Tony's bed, his hands down the back of Tony's pants, kneading at Tony's ass. Tony was only human. He kissed back. He pulled off Peter's suit with reckless disregard for tailor or dry-cleaning bills. Some buttons went flying, and Tony felt zero remorse for destroying something in the way of getting to suck marks into Peter's chest, of the chance to lick his clavicles and bite down on the meat of his shoulder.

"I can't believe you finally—" Peter said, only to shut himself up with another panting kiss. "Do you know how long I've wanted—?"

Tony didn't want to think about that, about how they'd met when Peter was fourteen and how Peter had always had a bit of an obvious crush. It had been fine when it couldn't go anywhere, when Peter was too young, when Tony was too taken, when it was never, ever going to happen and Tony had the comfort of knowing he didn't want it to. It had been harmless, a useless fantasy from a teenager who would (Tony had hoped) grow out of it. It should not be flattering to hear that Peter maybe had yet to grow out of it.

Tony didn't think he could do this if it was just that Peter hadn't grown out of it. Tony pushed Peter away, arm extended, eyes drawn to Peter's swollen lips. They were red and shiny, and Tony wanted to sink his teeth into them and let himself sink into Peter. It would be so easy not to think about it, to let himself crawl into Peter and everything he offered like a bottomless bottle and never resurface.

"How long?" Tony asked. His voice shook. He didn't know if he could say no to this.

"Since Titan," Peter said, and that … wasn't great, but it was better.

Peter was barely out of high school. Tony had been his mentor—was still his mentor, had only taken Peter out at first in that capacity. Fuck. Tony couldn't say no to this.

Tony reeled Peter back in and stuck his tongue down Peter's throat. The second Tony had seen that picture on that tawdry gossip site's "news" article, he'd known he was screwed. It wasn't just that Tony had been staring at Peter in blatant adoration. It was that Peter had been staring right back with his heart in his eyes.

Tony couldn't unsee it. He didn't want to.

—

"You know what this means, right?" Peter asked later, head pillowed against Tony's chest as Tony tugged gently at his hair.

"That I have no willpower and it'll be days before you have me wrapped around your finger?"

Peter scoffed. "Please. _Pepper Potts_ couldn't manage that in over a decade." Peter traced circles in Tony's side. "No, this means you either have to break up with your other boyfriend or tell the media that you're dating both of us."

"Okay, first of all, you know very well there was no other boyfriend." Tony hissed as Peter bit at his nipple. "Second, is this your way of saying you'd be receptive to an open relationship?"

"I'll only share you with Spider-Man," Peter said. He licked where he'd bitten, soothing the tender flesh with the flat of his tongue. "Just like you'll have to share me with Iron Man."

That gave Tony some very nice avenues of thought to explore at his leisure. Later. When he could get it up again. Tony did have some older models lying around, ready to be repurposed. "I can live with that."

Peter pressed a kiss to the scar tissue on Tony's right side. "You can."

—

Peter's laughter woke Tony a few weeks later. Peter had apparently decided to check his phone in bed, sitting up, back against the headboard.

"Want to share with the rest of the class?" Tony asked, groggy, eyes gritty with sleep.

"I can't believe you told that reporter that I was seeing Spider-Man first." Peter looked fond, not angry. Huh. Nice.

Tony pressed a kiss to Peter's thigh, then pressed his face into Peter's side. It was too early. Peter's hand dropped into Tony's hair, scratching gently. Tony closed his eyes, letting Peter lull him back to sleep, thoughts of reporters and gossip sites slipping away in favor of concentrating on Peter, solid and firm and real against him.

There were some downsides to half the population being alive again, but they were far outweighed by what Tony had right here, safe and warm and alive in his bed. He wouldn't trade it for the world.


End file.
